NOT THE NANTUCKET GETAWAY THEY HAD ORIGINALLY PLANNED
PART II: The Flight
"With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to ship." - Moby-Dick, Herman Melville
Willow stared out the window of the Cessna minutes after it took off from the Port Charles City Airport bound for Nantucket Massachusetts. Under normal circumstances, she would have been excited about a new adventure. She had never been on a plane this small before and never been to New England, the Cape, or Nantucket. However, these were not normal circumstances. In her hands was a weather-beaten copy of Moby-Dick that she had grabbed from Chase's bookshelf.
She stared down at the tattered copy. Her eyes fixated on the cover where a great white whale was looming under a little unsuspecting boat.
"Am I the whale or the whaleship?" Willow thought. "Definitely the vessel about to break into a million tiny pieces." She looked across the small table at Chase, who was definitely trying to make its best effort not to stare or look too concerned.
"Willow," he looked back, "You know there were lighter reading choices on my bookshelf." He pointed to Moby-Dick, "We could also pick up some great beach reading by Nantucket authors when we get to the island. There are two amazing bookstores on the island that operate year-round. There are some great local authors whose stories aren't so—"
Willow interrupted, "Just like I've always wanted to go to New England, I've always wanted to read Moby-Dick. So far, I'm learning a lot. Now is as good a time as any."
"Well…if you change your mind, we can make a pit stop at one of Nantucket's bookshops." He sighed.
"Sounds a-okay." She immediately opened the book, thinking about whether her reply was convincing to Chase. She thought about how both Chase and Michael always seemed to know when something was up with her or when she was trying to hide something. Chase, however, unlike Michael, knew when not to pry. She continued to try to maintain her calm façade that she had for most of the week. She didn't want him to worry or to know of the shame and darkness enveloping her.
As the flight got underway, she continued reading. In the first few chapters, she forgot herself for a moment and got lost to the imagery and description of the book. The narrator named Ishmael, seemed like a snarky 20 something with not a care in the world, except his own darkness. She could relate a bit, although she had never been that much of a smart ass. Throughout the book, Willow felt a little gratitude to the previous reader who had took the time to annotate and take notes in the margins. There were a lot of references and nautical context Willow had no frame of understanding. The neatly scribbled pencil notes were extremely helpful.
Within 60 minutes of take-off, the cabin began to darken. Willow looked out the window and saw dark rain clouds which were preventing her from continuing to make further headway into the novel. She then looked at Chase, who despite his best effort, had fallen asleep.
She closed the book and stared at Chase, feeling what could be, a small glimmer of hope. Willow had experienced unimaginable darkness and despair during the last few days. Chase was near her through all of this, but he had been careful not to overwhelm her.
Willow had been unable to verbalize what she was going through because it hurt so much. The physical heartache and nausea she could deal with. But the emotional and mental toll was another thing. Her mind continually raced to dark places. Her memories of all the bad things that had ever happened to her seemed to continue to rush towards her like a crashing tidal wave. When she closed her eyes, she felt Shiloh's presence or thought about the moment she had found her father's body in his hotel room the morning after her initiation. Her mind went to even darker places, so she forced herself to stay awake and try to stay away from those traumas.
Willow knew on a non-emotional level that Chase had been smart not to leave her alone. She had told him it was for the "safety of others" and herself. She wondered if Chase realized the ramifications of her words. Since the news of the loss of her baby, Willow had been figuratively drowning in a sea of emotion. Her heart seemed to waver from unimaginable grief, to intense anger, and to total numbness. She felt unpredictable in her own skin as her world spiralized out of control.
Willow looked down again at the cover of Moby-Dick. The world seemed to be coming upon her like that great White Whale in Moby-Dick, ready to break her. What would happen when she did finally break?
"Is this fair to Chase?" She thought. "He deserves a girlfriend who is in one piece, not a basketcase." She felt another pang of pain thinking about how she had lashed out at Chase when the news first broke. Her hands still hurt from pounding against Chase's chest. "How/why is he still here with me? No one else has ever thought me worth it. Maybe they knew something that Chase doesn't?" She thought.
Willow wasn't used to having someone be with her like this. She hated feeling dependent on him or anyone for that matter, but she allowed his attention because, in some small way, she rationalized that it helped Chase feel a little less helpless.
Her mind continued to wander some more. As a teacher, she had learned about how to support others, especially children in the event of grief. She had also witnessed Michael and the others' grief at the parents' bereavement meetings a year ago. Although an irrational thought, Willow couldn't help but think that by attending that grieving parents meeting, she had cursed herself to the same fate.
The captain's voice interrupted her from her reflection.
"We'll be landing in about 10 minutes. Please buckle up." The captain shouted.
Chase awoke and looked out the window and then at Willow, "How's the book?"
"It's good so far. The notes in pencil have been helpful." Willow replied.
Chase looked puzzled. Willow held up a page, showing numerous references to Greek and Roman Mythology, The Bible and Nautical terms, all written in a neat and flowing cursive hand.
"Oh," Chase said. "Truth be told, I only know the story of Moby-Dick…never actually read it myself. "
"Then whose notes are these…" Willow asked quizzically.
Chase squinted a bit, looking at the handwriting. "I'm pretty sure those notes are from Finn's mom. She passed away before I was born…" He paused awkwardly, "Obviously. But I know she was incredibly smart, just like Finn."
The captain interrupted again," Nantucket's Airport Tower is reporting a light rain and temperatures in the 50s. Hope you brought rain gear. "
"Willow, I'm sorry, I didn't even think to look at the weather before we left Port Charles," Chase said quietly.
"Chase….It's totally fine. The weather is perfect." The last word came out of her mouth a little too robotically. She knew it, and she knew Chase had heard it.
There was the familiar jolt when the plane landed. The jet slowed and started to taxi to its parking space for the evening. Willow looked out the window again. The sky was dark and gray. The rain seemed to be pouring down in sheets.
